


And rapture, sweet rapture, wont you lay your hands on me- for I am blind

by sal_paradise



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, F/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oops, Pining, giving the boy a proper death, i'm trash, if i was writing every show every bad guy would get a sympathetic death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:43:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_paradise/pseuds/sal_paradise
Summary: Gabriel is dying, he knows that much. Still it would be nice to die in the  arms of someone  he once  knew...





	And rapture, sweet rapture, wont you lay your hands on me- for I am blind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash. I couldn't stop thinking about a better not cartoonish death.  
> here it is  
> And rapture, sweet rapture  
> Won't you lay your hands on me  
> For I am blind
> 
> Mary, take that silver dagger  
> Put it to my throat  
> You see that levy  
> It's a-bound to break  
> Put the children in the boat~ A.A Bondy- Rapture sweet Rapture

 

 

The crunch of his chest plate cracking outwards breaks his hesitance.

He looks down to see the  blade  protruding from  his chest. The  blade is  wet  with his blood.

_That’s his blade how?_

And  reality catches  up with him in a huge  rush all at  once.

He can’t  breath.

 In his periphery he can see his killer  he isn't  shocked. It was  either  going to be this way or with her at his  mercy.

Philippa Georgiou had  gotten her  greatest wish.

 _Gabriel one day you’ll learn to hold your  tongue before  you speak._  He  chastises himself.

 A part of his mind wants to laugh; In the other world  they had been colleagues- brothers and sisters in arms fighting side by side  for Starfleet,Respectful of  one another…

But here...

_Christ  maybe he made a  mistake...Maybe he  should have stayed there._

He had  everything  he needed there.

Even If he couldn't  be with   **her**

He  could **be**  with  her

He was alive there so was she… Maybe with time who knows what could have blossomed  between them.

He had been happier then he had been in a while, he knew  she wasn’t as happy as she could be but  he hoped it was  better…He had hope he could give her more.

There had been a future there, a potential to live without war, without fighting. That was never an option here.

Why did he return?

Out of Greed, out of jealousy and anger and envy and vengeance.

_You  fool Gabriel._

_It's your own fault._

_Your own folly._

_You  always  wanted more then you had._

Georgiou  gives a small chuckle and gives the blade a unceremonious shake  trying to dislodge him.

It hurts, he rations if  rather numbly  as  his body  spasms around the blade  shiskabobbing him; he  tries desperately to hold himself together like a  sloppy  Humpty Dumpty.

_All the Queen’s horses and all the Queen’s men didn’t want to put Gabriel Lorca  back together again._

A laugh is trying to claw its way out of his throat like a rabid animal as she gives him another shake. It’s hot and sticky and coated in blood like the rest of him as a garbled choking noise leaves him.

Now  his  body is reluctant to let go.

It figures.

But  he  still can't  quite  grasp it... He’s  dying

He’s dying, he knows it

He’s not a complete idiot

Still…

Michael…

She  is  in front of  him.

He  can see  the look  on her  face, disgust, hatred,  fear  as she stares  at him.

There’s so much he  wants to say to her.

He's running out of time.

The blade lodges loose  from his  spine and  he’s falling.

His body is  giving up on him, he  can't blame it.

 With his  faltering steps he staggers  arms outstretched for some reprieve  however  fleeting  from the agony, for someone to pity him, for once in his life.

He can feel his lifeblood starting to ooze out of him.

He expects to hit the  ground hard, and is surprised when he doesn't - sluggishly  his eyes raise to find Michael holding him up warily.

“Mi- mi-chael” he garbles.His words  are fighting to get out of his mouth, they can't.

He coughs and he feels blood dribble past his lips,the copper in his mouth makes him gag.

There's too much of it.

“Leave that piece of  garbage Michael he is not worthy to lick your  boots” Philippa  snarled she sounded pleased with herself.

Michael shakes her head “ Lorca may not be the man I thought but that’s not the  Starfleet way.”  she mutters

“Michael-”

“He won't be able to go on much longer.” she managed somewhat  stiffly“Just let me give him this. He's no threat to anyone now.”

He can hear Philippa sneer.

“ You are not my Michael. You're Starfleet morals have much to be desired... Showing pity; He deserves worse.”

“You’re  right I’m not your  Michael”  she replies  “ he  did  those things to her,  not to me. He was not  what I thought  but-”

She  cant  finish.

_No one deserves to die this way._

Michael ignores her - the sound of  disgust as she is lowering Gabriel to the floor with a gentleness he knew he was not  worthy of, with  gentle hands  she  wants to roll him onto his side.

“P-please  -ant to s-see you-u”  he managed to rasp out.

A last  request of a dying man.

She obliges.

Rolling him on his back he gets a clear  view of her beautiful face as he lays there, Michael can hear  his  straining lungs  as they grasp desperately for every morsel of air and make that awful high pitched wheezing, in an attempt to  not suck in blood.

He raises a hand, he needs to  touch, needs to know he  isn’t imaging this. He touches her cheek fleetingly.

_She isn’t his Michael_

He knows that.

His Michael is  gone as well.

Still.

It’s nice to pretend; to see something  beautiful one  last time.

She allows him this small reprieve, she’s  stiff to it but, allows him to simply  touch  what he can never have again.

It’s enough, he closes his eyes, briefly as his breath staggers.

“Gabriel?”

“ till h-here” he  manages.

She  gives a small nod as she lowers  his hand and  gently holds it in hers.

He can sense Georgiou’s  disgust but it doesn't matter.

 He’s a dead man.

 _There are  far worse ways he could  have gone, at least there  was some sense of peace here._ He muses   

He can’t  feel his  legs.

He cant  feel much of anything.

He  looks deep into her eyes, and he senses her pity, her remorse, and for a moment he wants  nothing more then to apologize.

“M-michael”

She tightens her grip.

“I-i mm s-sorry” he manages “I’m-”

_Not a good man_

_Not  worthy of your  forgiveness_

_Not meant to be with you…_

But  none of this make it  out. His  words are stuck  in his throat

_He’s thirsty  unbearably so,  something to soothe the ache of his throat._

 

His words  are staggering.

He’s  falling.

He can't  go on for much longer he -

“I’m s-ss” he breaks to cough, fresh blood dribbling  from his lips “Never w-wanted t-to h-hurt” he  breaks to pant for every breath and her grips slightly  tightens in his.

She soothes him gently  despite  herself; She  hates to see  him  suffer. To go out like  this, her  other hand runs almost  cautiously through his hair.

He wasn't who she thought- he was never that man. She wondered  briefly as she held his  hand, it’s strength wilting- maybe he had been a different man once.

Maybe he had been like the Gabriel Lorca she was supposed to know but the world changed him...

 He hasn’t the strength to fight it  anymore, as he lays there  listening to his wheezing  breaths  with her holding his hand.

Michael can hear the strain of his lungs, getting quieter and quieter, the  stumbling beat of his heart and ragged pulls for air from his chest  are  growing less and less  frequent.

The word  “captain” is on the tip of her tongue...Because That’s  what  he was to her...

Captain and Specialist

In another time and another place  they had been more.

 

Michael simply hold his hand  together,  head dropped in silence, watching as those blue eyes  blinked slower and  slower.

She can’t pull her gaze away as he holds hers and finally she can barely hear his breathing, his eyes are still with her as if asking permission

 _I’m leaving_ they seem to say

 _I know_ she wants to reply

There was nothing  left to say she gives him one  firm nod of her head and for a fleeting moment she thinks his lips quirk up in that ghost of a smile she had associated with him.

 _Goodbye_  he managed with that  look and  his eyes close  for the last  time  and his breath stops, his  hand goes slowly limp in hers.

“Goodbye captain.” She managed.

_Goodbye._


End file.
